


The Holy Day

by i_know_its_0ver



Category: Merlin - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-03-01
Updated: 2011-03-01
Packaged: 2017-10-18 14:51:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/190013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/i_know_its_0ver/pseuds/i_know_its_0ver
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The approach of the holy day of the Old Religion causes Merlin's magic to flare out of his control, which has surprising consequences (read: PORN).</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Holy Day

**Author's Note:**

> this started out as a joke with a friend, and is intended to be a bit cracky; don't take it too seriously.
> 
> Warnings for explicit sexual content.

Summer was slowly fading into fall, and a quiet peace seemed to have settled over Camelot. The harvests were brought in, and the world was settling down for the long winter months ahead.

Everyone, that was, except Merlin.

Lately Merlin’s magic was acting up, like it had become too strong for him to control. He could feel it leaking out of his fingertips, a small trickle of energy that set his whole body thrumming. It wasn’t terribly powerful magic; the only effect he had noticed was that it made objects react when he touched them, resonating with a power he couldn’t understand. Sometimes they would glow ever so slightly, the same golden hue as his eyes, though it faded quickly and Merlin thought maybe he had simply imagined it. So far it hadn’t caused any major problems, and Merlin wasn’t terribly worried. He was used to hiding larger secrets, after all.

The Great Dragon had warned Merlin that he might experience strange changes in the coming weeks. The great holy day of the Old Religion was approaching, a day of great power for all magical beings. Merlin had occasionally noticed seasonal fluctuations of his magic in the past, but it was more dramatic since he had come to Camelot and honed his skills. This was the first year he had felt it so strongly.

He was more concerned about what it would mean for Camelot’s enemies. If their power was heightened as well they might choose this time to attack. Merlin had been on high alert for days, though so far all seemed calm. Still, his constant vigilance and worry left him jittery and irritable.

So Merlin wasn’t even thinking about his own powers while he was putting Arthur’s armor on for training, fastening the buckles of the breastplate around his shoulders. His mind was miles away, wondering what Morgause might be up to right then, or how his magic would respond should he need it.

“Ah!” Arthur suddenly exclaimed, turning to glare at Merlin accusingly.

Merlin frowned, not in the mood for Arthur’s foul temper this morning.

“What the hell was that?” Arthur demanded, and Merlin could only stare at him blankly. He was certain he had been careful not to pinch Arthur with any of the clasps, which was nearly impossible over the thick layers of chainmail and fabric anyway. He had no idea what the prince was on about.

“It was like a…tingling feeling. You didn’t notice?” Arthur demanded, giving Merlin that look that said he was unbelievably daft. Merlin merely shrugged. He had no idea what Arthur was talking about, and honestly he had more important things to worry about than the prat’s minor discomfort.

“Uh!” Arthur cried again as Merlin was fastening his gauntlet, jerking his hand out of Merlin’s grasp, the half-done armor swinging haphazardly.

Merlin gave an exasperated sigh. “Arthur, I don’t know what you’re playing at, but I’m not _doing_ anything.” Normally Arthur probably would have scolded Merlin for taking such a disrespectful tone, but right now he was preoccupied with staring at Merlin suspiciously, like he thought the servant was playing some new trick and he didn’t find it the slightest bit amusing.

“I’ll do the rest myself,” Arthur mumbled, “you’re dismissed.”

Merlin raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “What, no other tasks for me? Nothing tedious or unpleasant that needs doing today?” he asked, sarcasm barely concealed.

Arthur hardly seemed to notice his tone, or his words at all. He had turned away, but Merlin could see a flush of color on the back of his neck. “Just, get out, Merlin,” Arthur said, and it came out terse, like he was speaking through clenched teeth.

That was never a good sign. Merlin decided not to stick around, lest he be ordered to muck out every stable in the kingdom.

He wasn’t sure what he had done to put Arthur in such a bad mood, but he wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity for a few free hours. He would use them to make another round of the castle grounds, checking for any signs of suspicious activity.

****

Later that night Merlin helped Gaius mix several potions for patients in the lower town. He ground the mortar and pestle while Gaius measured out the right proportions of herbs and emptied them into the bowl.

“Here, crush these,” he commanded, handing over a sprig of dried leaves. As Merlin reached out their fingers brushed.

Gaius jumped back as if he had been singed. Merlin’s eyes widened in shock, though he hadn’t felt a thing. Gaius was looking at him warily.

“Merlin, did you just use magic?” he asked, one of his eyebrows arching dramatically in his best scolding look.

“No, of course not,” Merlin replied, surprised at the accusation. Even though he often ignored Gaius’s cautions not to use magic unless absolutely necessary, he wasn’t foolish enough to do it right in front of him.

“Give me your hand,” Gaius commanded, holding out his own. Merlin didn’t understand, but obeyed anyway, placing his hand lightly over Gaius’s palm.

As soon as their skin brushed Gaius pulled away again, sucking in a sharp breath. Merlin was frightened, thinking he must have hurt him somehow.

“How long has this been happening?” Gaius demanded, assessing Merlin sharply, with that look he could never hide anything from. But this time Merlin could only gape. He had absolutely no idea what Gaius was talking about and nothing to confess.

Gaius watched him flounder for a few moments before sighing, motioning for Merlin to come sit beside him on the work bench. Merlin followed, being careful to keep a safe distance, and flopped down cheerlessly. He knew some kind of lecture was coming, but he didn’t even know what he had done to deserve it this time.

“Your magic,” Gaius began, looking down at Merlin’s hands folded in his lap. “Has it been…acting strangely of late?”

Merlin nodded sulkily. He didn’t know how to explain to Gaius what he knew without revealing his meetings with the Great Dragon. He settled for a half-truth.

“It always acts up a little around this time of year,” he said, following Gaius’s gaze to his hands. He could still feel the tiny threads of magic spilling out of them in a never-ending current. That must be what Gaius was getting at.

“I see. Well, you probably realize that you should be cautious, then. When your magic is… _in flux_ like this it can be very volatile. You may not realize it, but it is acting without your command.”

Merlin remembered the incident with Arthur that morning. Both times when Arthur had reacted it was immediately after Merlin had brushed his skin, just as Gaius had responded. What was it that he was doing?

“Gaius, just now, when I touched you…what did it feel like?” Merlin asked. Judging by Arthur and Gaius’s reactions it looked painful. If that was the case he was going to have to be extra cautious until the holy day passed and his magic returned to normal. He couldn’t bear the thought of accidentally causing pain to others. Maybe if he wore gloves it would dampen the effect, but would that be too suspicious?

Merlin was shaken from his musings by the sight of Gaius flushed and fidgeting, obviously uncomfortable. Merlin had never seen him like that before; in all the months he had known him Gaius was always strong and commanding and assured, even when facing the king’s wrath. But right now he looked positively embarrassed.

“Did it hurt?” Merlin prompted, fearing the worst. Gaius probably wouldn’t want to make him feel guilty by telling Merlin he was causing other people pain. He was such a kind soul.

“No, not hurt,” Gaius fumbled, voice choked. “It’s more of a…pleasant feeling, like a tingling, but it has a certain, uh, _effect_ that you should be cautious of.” He was trying to look at Merlin meaningfully, though it was difficult when he couldn’t bring himself to quite meet the boy’s eyes.

Merlin was relieved that it wasn’t pain, though he didn’t understand what Gaius meant by effect. But if it was pleasant it couldn’t be all that bad, right? He would remain cautious and avoid contact so no one got suspicious, but he didn’t have to worry about hurting anyone, at least. That was a weight off his mind.

Merlin nodded at Gaius with a smile, and rose to go about the rest of his evening duties with renewed energy. He didn’t notice Gaius’s look of dismay behind his back.

“Remember, Merlin, be careful,” he called as Merlin set off for Arthur’s chambers to help the prince prepare for bed.

****

Merlin felt lighter than he had in days as he walked through the familiar halls, and he could feel the magic flowing from him with renewed vigor. His magic wasn’t evil, of course it wouldn’t hurt anyone. It was a relief to know that even when it was not under his full control his magic was still a force for good.

He arrived at Arthur’s chambers in a chipper mood, clearing away the dinner plates and piling the discarded armor for polishing the next day. Arthur was sitting at his desk pouring over a pile of papers, looking even more glum than when Merlin had last left him.

“Good evening, sire,” Merlin called out, but Arthur only grunted in return. Merlin didn’t let it bother him, busying himself with preparing Arthur’s bath and laying out his sleep clothes.

When that was done he stood in the center of the room, twiddling his thumbs and looking about for something to keep him occupied.

“Will you stop that?” Arthur demanded, looking up from his papers. Merlin hadn’t been making a sound, but apparently just his motion was enough to annoy the prince tonight. That wasn’t a good sign.

Merlin only smiled in return and tried to stand still, though it didn’t last long and soon he was shifting his weight back and forth, rocking on his heels as he watched Arthur work.

Arthur finally sighed and dropped his papers, standing and coming over to join Merlin.

“What has put you in such a good mood?” he asked accusingly as Merlin started to remove his clothes for his bath. He sounded as if Merlin’s cheerfulness was a personal affront.

“Oh, I don’t know, just been a good day, I guess,” Merlin replied, carefully unfastening the ties on Arthur’s shirt. He remembered Gaius’s cautions and was careful not to let his fingers fall on bare skin.

Arthur snorted. “You certainly weren’t in a good mood this morning,” he pointed out. Merlin had almost forgotten about that. His worries from the morning seemed to have dissipated as soon as he had rejoined Arthur, and he had almost forgotten about the concern for Camelot that had plagued him for days. That was odd.

Merlin tried to deflect that line of thought, not wanting to have to come up with an unconvincing lie for his earlier behavior. He couldn’t reveal his concerns to Arthur since he had no plausible way of explaining this knowledge. It was best to keep it to himself, then.

“You weren’t very cheerful yourself, you know,” Merlin said instead, reaching to pull Arthur’s shirt over his head.

As he did so he felt a fingertip skim accidentally over Arthur’s collarbone. Arthur’s body jerked and he shivered briefly, but he didn’t cry out this time. Merlin rushed to pull the shirt off, hoping he could distract Arthur from noticing.

With the shirt removed and no longer obscuring his face Merlin could see that Arthur was flushed. He was eyeing Merlin warily, like he suspected him of some mischief.

Merlin hurriedly moved on, reaching for the drawstring of Arthur’s breeches.

“No!” Arthur nearly shouted, stopping him short. Merlin froze in surprise, hands outstretched.

“No need, I can do that myself,” Arthur said, voice strained like he was fighting for control.

“Alright,” Merlin said, backing away slowly, hands raised palm outward in a placating gesture. “I’ll…leave you to it, then.”

When Arthur continued to glare at him Merlin turned away, busying himself with straightening the bed and plumping the pillows vigorously. He heard the water splash as Arthur slid into the metal tub and wondered if it was safe to turn around yet.

He gave it a few more minutes, just to be safe, before reaching for the cloth to scrub Arthur’s back. This would be tricky, but maybe if he was careful to keep his hand covered by the cloth there would be no effect. He wrapped it over his fingers and around his wrist like a makeshift glove; it was a little awkward, but it would do.

Merlin leaned over the tub to wet the cloth and Arthur jumped at his unexpected presence.

“What are you doing?” he demanded, voice strained.

“Washing your back, like I do every night?” Merlin replied, wondering why Arthur was so startled. This was part of Merlin’s duties, what else would he be doing?

Arthur let out a sigh and slumped down in the tub. “Oh, right,” he said, trying to cover up his previous uncertainty. “Well don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Merlin just rolled his eyes. He soaped up the cloth and Arthur leaned forward, revealing his broad back for Merlin’s ministrations.

Merlin worked his way across Arthur’s shoulders in a circular motion that the prince usually found relaxing. But tonight the tense line of his shoulders didn’t ease, and Merlin could feel the muscles flexing under his fingertips. He pushed his fingers against the skin a little harder, trying to work out a bit of the tension.

As he changed the angle of his arm to move lower the cloth began to slip, and Merlin attempted to catch it, pinning the material between his hand and Arthur’s back before it dropped back into the water.

Well, he caught about half of it, actually, leaving half of his bare hand had resting on Arthur’s skin. Merlin expected Arthur to jerk away again, out of his touch, but he was surprised when instead Arthur let out a low moan. His skin quivered beneath Merlin’s hand like a horse’s flank, but he didn’t move away. Merlin was so surprised that he pulled back instinctively.

Once they were separated Arthur let out a gasping breath, shoulders slumping forward. Merlin could see a blush covering the back of his neck and the tips of his ears, and could feel his own face heating up in response.

“Arthur?” he asked hesitantly, “are you alright?” He was waiting for Arthur to rail at him for his incompetence and kick him out of his chambers. But instead Arthur stayed silent, breathing heavily.

Merlin leaned forward cautiously to try and catch a glimpse of his face, to see whether he really was in pain after all. He scooted over and glanced around his side, but before he could raise his eyes to Arthur’s face something else caught his attention: through the clear bath water he could see Arthur’s unmistakable arousal, full and straining between his thighs.

Merlin almost jumped back in surprise, and Arthur looked up, noticing his gaze. He quickly attempted to hide himself beneath his hands, looking away.

It wasn’t the first time Merlin had seen Arthur in such a state; he woke him up every morning, after all, and it was only natural for young men their age. This, however, was not usual circumstances.

“You can go now,” Arthur ground out between tensed lips, just as he had dismissed Merlin that morning.

Merlin was about to follow his order and leave discreetly and never mention this again when something came to mind. He suddenly remembered Gaius’s words about his magic having an “effect.” Oh God, is this what he had meant? It seemed Arthur had reacted the same way this morning, embarrassed and tense. Had he caused it with his touch? The thought was mortifying, but also...strangely gratifying.

Merlin didn’t move, sitting and watching Arthur silently. Arthur glanced up to find him still there and nearly _whimpered_. “Please, Merlin, just go away,” he practically begged, and it was a tone Merlin had never heard him use before, not the proud crown prince he knew.

But he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Arthur face, cheeks flushed, pupils blown wide. Merlin had always secretly thought Arthur beautiful, as did most of the kingdom, but he had never looked so entrancing before.

“I can help you,” Merlin said, not sure where the words came from, spilling forth without his bidding.

Arthur just stared at him, dumbstruck. Maybe he had expected teasing or concern, but certainly not that, it seemed. “What do you mean?” he asked warily, eyes never leaving Merlin.

In answer Merlin leaned forward, placing a hand flat against Arthur’s chest. Arthur moaned in response, leaning further into the touch, and Merlin’s breath caught in his throat.

“Merlin,” Arthur whispered, “what are you...?” but Merlin didn’t even know. He reached out his other hand, wrapping it around the back of Arthur’s neck and pulling him closer. Arthur shivered, but complied, leaning against the side of the tub and into Merlin’s chest.

Before Merlin could consider his next move Arthur was leaning towards him, eyes hungrily locked on his lips. He didn’t even have time to blink before Arthur’s mouth closed over his own in a searing kiss. Merlin leaned into it, using his hand of Arthur’s neck to pull him closer, letting his fingers curl in the hair at the nape of his neck. Arthur’s kiss was hungry and desperate, and Merlin didn’t know how to match it, letting Arthur guide him until he found his footing.

Merlin’s other hand continued to roam over Arthur’s chest, feeling each of the lean muscles that he saw each day but had never appreciated so much before. They tensed and quivered beneath his touch, pushing back against his hand, greedy for more contact.

Slowly Merlin’s hand began working its way downward, and before he realized it his fingers were resting on Arthur’s hip, splayed across the angular bone.

Arthur pulled away from his lips with a gasp, and Merlin’s mouth followed desperately, not wanting it to end yet. Merlin’s eyes slowly opened as Arthur whispered his name, lips at his ear.

“Merlin, please,” he murmured, and somehow Merlin knew exactly what he meant.

He let his hand glide lower, down to Arthur’s inner thigh and between his legs. The back of his hand brushed lightly against Arthur’s stiff cock and Arthur gasped again, hips bucking forward. Merlin heard himself groan at the feel of it, though he felt disconnected, his body acting before his mind could catch up. The sound came out unbidden, he couldn’t hold it back if he’d wanted to.

He eagerly reached and took Arthur’s length in hand, deliberately and roughly, running his hand along the length, letting his fingers map every inch. Arthur grunted and leaned his forehead against Merlin’s, panting hard. Merlin couldn’t resist leaning back in to capture his lips again as his hand closed in a tight fist around Arthur, giving his cock a rough stroke.

Arthur moaned into his mouth, and Merlin took it as a sign to repeat the motion. He stroked quickly from base to tip, occasionally pausing to run his fingers over the smooth tip. Arthur’s whole body jerked into the touch, and he nearly bit down on Merlin’s lip in surprise.

Arthur dropped his head to the hollow of Merlin’s neck, letting it loll against his shoulder as he moaned incoherently, occasionally nipping at the skin there and making Merlin groan.

Merlin continued to stroke in a fast rhythm, whispering encouragements and endearments, coaxing Arthur to release. Finally Arthur’s body went tense in Merlin’s grip, hips jerking up. With a sharp cry against Merlin’s throat he spent, his seed quickly dissipating in the bath water, his cock slowly softening as the last aftershocks wore away.

Merlin let go reluctantly, pulling his hand out of the tub to wipe dry against his trousers. He suddenly tensed then, as if his mind had finally caught up with his body and couldn’t believe what it had just done. _Idiot!_ he screamed at himself, sure that he was going to end in the dungeons for at least several days, if not forever.

He moved to pull away carefully, but Arthur still clung to his neck. Slowly Arthur raised his head, his gaze still relaxed and blissful. He leaned forward to kiss Merlin again gently, lingering as he ran a hand through his messy hair. When Arthur pulled away he was smiling, and Merlin couldn’t help but smile back, though he was still hesitant.

“You’re not...angry?” Merlin asked, fearing that Arthur’s reaction may just be delayed.

To his astonishment Arthur merely laughed. “You really are the biggest idiot in the whole kingdom, aren’t you, Merlin?” he teased, and Merlin tried to laugh as well, but it caught in his throat and came out as a nervous giggle.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Merlin asked, trying to keep his tone light.

“It means,” Arthur replied, leaning in for another kiss, “shut up already and help me out of the bath so we can continue.”

Merlin gaped. “Continue?” he asked, voice nearly a squeak, and Arthur smiled at him wickedly. He rushed to comply without further complaint.

****

Two days later Merlin could feel his magic ebbing again, drawing back into himself and coiling inside, waiting to be called forth. It no longer spilled out of him, and it was a relief to know he was in full control once again.

He was also relieved that no threat had ever materialized against Camelot. He knew he had to remain ever vigilant, but at least now the danger was no more grave than usual.

He snuck down to the Great Dragon’s cave that night to report the news, though the dragon somehow seemed to know the castle’s happenings even without Merlin’s help.

“Hello, young warlock,” the dragon greeted, with what Merlin thought passed for the dragon equivalent of a smile.

“The holy time is over now?” Merlin asked, because although he was fairly certain it was always better to check.

“Yes, haven’t you felt it?” the dragon replied. “The Earth’s magic has receded, growing dormant for the winter” he continued, though Merlin wasn’t exactly sure what that meant.

“Good, then Camelot is safe,” Merlin replied confidently.

The dragon gave him a sidelong look. “Of course, why should it not be?” he asked, teeth flashing.

“With magic heightened for the holy day I thought Camelot’s enemies might try to use their power against us. But now it’s over, and nothing happened,” Merlin replied, feeling for once like he was the one explaining the obvious to the all-wise dragon.

The dragon barked, small flames shooting out of his nostrils, and Merlin was almost certain he was laughing.

“Oh, my boy,” the dragon cackled, settling back on his haunches with a few more snorts. “The holy day does not heighten _all_ magical power. It is a festival of love and fertility. It can provide no benefit for those who seek to use magic for evil.” He continued chuckling to himself, but Merlin could only gape.

“Love and fertility? What does that mean?” he demanded, holding his torch in front of him in what he hoped was a commanding stance.

“You should know quite well, boy,” the dragon replied with an arch look. “The magic of the holy day is designed to draw together and promote harmony.”

Merlin was feeling rather sheepish now, remembering what had passed between him Arthur. Draw together, indeed. He wondered if the dragon could see his blush in the torchlight. But if that meant it had only been the magic…

“Do not fret,” the dragon continued, as if reading his thoughts. “The powers of the festival are a force of fate; they can only bring together those who are meant to be. Though the magic may wane, destiny does not change.”

Merlin could feel himself blushing crimson under that knowing stare and wanted desperately to be anywhere else. He was sure the dragon was never going to let him forget this.

“Well, um, right, thank you,” Merlin fumbled, wanting to get away as quickly as possible.

“Well done, young warlock!” the dragon called after him, and Merlin swore he heard more cackling laughter.


End file.
